Twitters and Chirps
by MissMarquin
Summary: Memories are precious, and they should be remembered. A collection of companion pieces to Songbird, and the rest of the Little Sparrow Saga. Oneshots and Drabbles. Spoilers abound. Rin/Sess, Inutaisho/Izayoi, Inutaisho/Inukimi, OCs.
1. The Importance of a Proper Brew

_**A/N:** I have had tons of scene ideas for this series and the world of Songbird, but not all of them really fit into the chapters. So I thought, huh, wouldn't it be cool to just have a collection of oneshots and drabbles, that accompany the Series as a whole? Here, you'll see happy and sad stories. Mindless fluff, silly situations and observations. All and every character will be featured at some point, I'm sure._

 _That being said, I'm sure that it's obvious by now that if you haven't read my other Story SONGBIRD, none of these will make sense to you. So... maybe go read that first._

* * *

 _ **The Importance of a Proper Brew**_

 _In which Sesshoumaru brews tea for Rin, prompting some philosophical conversation._

* * *

Tea time was precious to him. It was his time to think and he preferred above all, to do it alone.

Keiko thought it was the perfect opportunity to bother him, but she _did_ brew the best pots, so he allowed it. But as of late he shared tea time with Keiko less and less, and more and more with Rin. The girl had been quiet since she sat down, and he turned to look at her-

Only to find her pouring a cup _far_ too soon. He reached out, grabbing her hand and said, "At least another minute."

Rin blinked at him. "What's only a moment before?"

" _Only_?" he hissed. "You would ruin such a meticulous blend, by drinking it early?"

"It's only tea," she said, clueless.

Oh bless this child and her young heart, for apparently she knew absolutely nothing. He pulled his hand away. "Tea is only as good, as the person brewing it."

"Well no wonder Keiko-san brews the most amazing tea," was her reply, as she set the ceramic pot back down.

"My father did, as well," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He wasn't sure why, but it was hard to not share things about his father with her.

There was an awkward pause, and then Rin said quietly, "He seems like he was a wonderful man. I hear only the best things of him."

"He lived by his morals, first and foremost. He was a complicated man."

Rin hummed at that. "Well, it's no wonder I don't brew good tea. I'm a good performer, but I've always been a terrible slave."

He wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. Rin wasn't terrible standard. Perhaps a bit mouthy, but… that was her charm. It wasn't his job to encourage her though- he would leave that for Keiko. He leaned forward and took the kettle into his hand, pouring out a cup for Rin and then one for himself.

As Rin reached for the sugar cubes, he said, "There's no need for that. Jasmine is meant to be sipped as itself."

Rin looked unsure, her little mouth twisting into a slight frown, but she chose to trust him in the end anyhow. Pulling back her cup, she smiled and said, "You were right, this is absolutely wonderful."

"It was my father's favorite."

"Is it yours?"

"No, but I thought that you might like it."

It wasn't the first time that he had gone out of his way, to do something for the girl. It was an odd feeling for a solitary creature such as himself, but it wasn't unnatural.

"Say, Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin started with, "if this brew is so fantastic, and a good brew is indicative of the person who prepared it, then I wonder what this says about you?" Her words were innocent and serene, and the smile that she gave him matched them.

"I cannot judge myself, Rin."

"Hmmm." She paused and sipped at her tea again, savoring it. "I would think that it says you are quite a decent person, otherwise why would you brew tea for me to begin with?"

Normally, such a thing would make him cringe, but instead his feelings lurched.

"Decent, hmm?"

"Quite," Rin reaffirmed. "Thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama."

His heart flip-flop just a little bit again, a strange and foreign feeling.

He didn't hate it.


	2. Pitiful Child

_**Pitiful Child**_

 _In which Keiko meets a young girl._

* * *

It had been a long time, since Keiko had seen a creature more pitiful than herself.

But she stood there in the Gallery, staring at the grand and gilded cage. There was a small lump in the middle, breathing slowly and steadily, despite the odd position that she lay in. A young woman grown, she knew, judging by her age, but there was barely anything to her.

She was a ghost of the woman she could have been, whittled away by a life of servitude and ownership. Humans were disgusting.

And so was her Empress, for buying the girl.

But Sesshoumaru had asked her to take care of the girl, and so she would. She would throw herself into the sun, if that was what he wished of her- she owed him her life and so much more.

She leaned forward and rapped against the bars of the cage, a low clanging sound filling the large room. The girl snapped awake, like startled dog, throwing herself against the opposite side of the bars. Her eyes were frantic and fearful, as she regarded her.

Keiko sighed at her. What a pitiful, _pitiful_ child.

"Little Sparrow," she called to her, slinking her hand through the bars carefully. The girl's gaze trained on her claws and Keiko could hear her heart beat wildly. "Fear not, I am hear to help you."

The girl didn't speak. She wouldn't. For slaves, speaking meant punishment. What had this girl endured during her short life?

When it became clear that the girl wouldn't calm down or come near, Keiko finally pulled her hand back. There was no use trying to calm and feral animal, and while this girl wasn't wild, she acted similarly. Corned and afraid, a dangerous combination.

"I will bring you a meal in the morning," she said to her. "And then after, I will bathe you. You have nothing to fear of me, Little Sparrow. I'm here to serve you."

Oh, the dramatic irony of it all. Her great lineage, reduced to being the servant of a _slave_.

But, there was something about the girl. She reminded her of Izayoi. Despite the frank fear within her, she was a steady determination set in her eyes. A gaze that penetrated deep, knowing. Keiko sighed once more, before she turned and left.

She brought her a meal the next day as promised, but with her claws clipped short.

And the girl smiled.

* * *

 _A/N: Keiko's meeting with Rin could have gone one thousand ways, and it would have ended the same- with the old dog doing whatever she could to gain her trust._


	3. Ghosts of Her

_A/N: Required reading is at least through Chapter 11 of Sonbird._

* * *

 _ **Ghosts of Her**_

 _In which a prince is seeing a ghost._

 _Or maybe he just misses her._

* * *

Sesshoumaru had vastly underestimated the preparations required to become an Emperor.

And Gods above, he hated things that he deemed _menial_. And being fitted for new clothing was definitely on that list. And he swore to his father above, that if this deranged spider youkai nicked him with the needle _one more time_ …

Well, her head would be rolling along the ground, end of story.

Still, he was pleased with the color that she had picked for this particular ensemble. White and red silk, embroidered with delicate hexagons. The obi was yellow and blue, and it would pair well despite the contrast.

 _You look very regal, Sesshoumaru-sama_ , Rin would think.

And at that he paused- what Rin thought didn't matter. His aunt had whisked her away weeks ago. Any yet…

 _I doubt that any other person could wear such a thing with ease._

It warmed his heart.

* * *

He kept the letter that his aunt sent him, constantly on his being. And there he held it, running his fingers over the creases carefully, as he read the words.

"You are the stupidest man that I know," he murmured. She wasn't wrong. The Sesshoumaru of last year would never have doubted himself. The Sesshoumaru of this year constantly did.

 _She means it with love,_ Rin would tell him. Her words would be full of ease, and maybe she would reach out and squeeze her small fingers into his sleeve. _Don't hate her for it._

He read the letter again.

And then he smiled.

* * *

He had moved his tea time to late a night, to combat constant interruptions.

The Jasmine brew was perfect, but it wasn't what we wanted. He wanted the imperfect brew that belonged to Rin, the one that was too tangy, or too weak, depending on the day. Keiko had tried to teach her how to make his tea, it seemed, and she hadn't quite perfected it.

 _The night is calm_ , Rin would start with, as they sat on the bench in his Father's garden. _But it is a good night for company_.

He would say anything, only reaching for the pot of tea and preparing himself a cup. He still hadn't forgiven his aunt for her carefully placed trickery, trying to get him to accept a cup from the girl herself. And poor Rin, not knowing the ramifications of taking such a thing from her.

 _Cultural differences_ , she would tell him. _I still have a lot to learn, when it comes to youkai_.

And learn she would, because Rin soaked up things like a sponge. It was one of the reasons that he gifted her the Southern Throne back, alongside the blatantly obvious- that it _belonged_ to her by birthright. Keiko would easily gather that he also picked her, because he trusted her.

 _What matters though isn't our differences, but rather our similarities._

A year ago, he would have thought such a thing utterly ridiculous.

 _Tell me Sesshoumaru-sama, what is that you think about tonight?_

And at first he wouldn't answer, and she would have leaned in, closer than anyone else would. She would have curled her fingers into his sleeve, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. And he would have leaned down, pressing his lips against her head. Those little moments, he had allowed himself.

The moment that she came back as the Southern Lady, they would have to stop.

But in a moment that Rin would have said such a thing, his response would have been simple.

 _I'm thinking of you_.


End file.
